The case for building more roads

Suella Braverman was completely wrong to ask her civil servants to investigate the possibility of arranging a one-on-one speed awareness course. This is not because this was in breach of the ministerial code. That aspect of the affair was one of the worst examples of contrived, sanctimonious outrage I have ever seen; it pains me to think anyone thought it remotely newsworthy.

No, the main reason Suella was wrong to request a one-on-one course is far simpler. Attending a speed awareness course in the company of a random selection of other people is a total blast, and too great an entertainment opportunity to miss. It’s like Twelve Angry Men with motoring advice.

I have spent £90 attending West End plays which were far less amusing than my two speed awareness courses

I have spent £90 attending West End plays which were far less amusing than my two speed awareness courses. I arrived at my first course in a foul mood muttering libertarian clichés about the nanny state, but left cheered by the intelligent teaching and witty badinage of the participants.

Sadly I was not present for the legendary moment at a speed awareness course in Oxfordshire when the attendees were supposedly asked, as is standard practice, to rate their driving ability on a scale of 1 to 10, with 5 denoting a driver of average ability. The point here is that almost everyone rates themselves a 7 or above, with vanishingly few people scoring their abilities below a 5: the exercise therefore illustrates what is known as ‘overconfidence bias’. In this case, the instructor singled out one driver. ‘You, sir, you gave yourself a 9. Would you like to revise that down?’ ‘Um, actually I was being modest. My name is Jody Scheckter and I was Formula 1 world champion in 1979.’